The Salvage War
by Ellen Jacee
Summary: Gladys and Chloe live under the Gillholy Bridge. One day, by chance, they find a lost Totemix clan. Is it a coincidence that a strange boy, Owen, shows up the next day? And did Candy really fail?


**I am the author. I like readers. Readers like (hopefully) to review. I like reviews. Get it? Okay, this is my first Abarat fanfic, and it will get better, I promise. And it might be longer. Just please read this, and crticize it to the best of your abilities (which are extensive, I am certain).**

The Salvage War

"…_a soul of water…"_

"Chlo?" Gladys glanced over the edge of the boat into the deep, dark, murky water. It reflected her gaunt, starved face to perfection, distorting it slightly with the ripples. Her green and brown hair appeared to have willow branches in it, and her silvery eyes glinted like stars.

"Yeah?" Chloe brought the line back in, a fraying old clothesline someone on Nully had used for their sheets.

"Will we always live here? Under the bridge?" She looked up from the water to gauge Chloe's reaction, pushing her hair out of the way. Both girls were human-amphibian hybrids, a great deal like the Skizmut of the eastern islands. Webbed fingers and feet, not to mention a more efficient respiratory system, allowed both of them to capture most of what they needed to eat, but it was never enough.

"Gladdy, whatever you want, you can make it happen," Chloe paused to skip a stone over the shadowed mass that was the Izzabella, not believing her own words. "Why?"

Gladys hesitated before replying. "I don't know. I think I like it here, though. Everyone leaves us alone, and… I don't know." Echoes of the stone slapping the water resounded, the cave like bridge magnifying and vibrating the sounds even more. Still, the noise and stone continued, and soon the vibrations alone were making the thick booming sound. As it passed the bridge's shadow, the clamor began to fade out, presumably because there was nothing to magnify it. Chloe and Gladys stared at it, undistracted. The stone was now skipping – in place.

"Race?" Chloe grinned.

"Fine…" Gladys sighed and slid off her shoes, diving naturally into the water. Her hair, instead of holding the water back, slid it by, its waxy surface glinting in the dim light beneath the Gillholy Bridge. "I suppose I need not ask where to?"

"You can just as easily guess," Chloe smiled, her pointed silver teeth glittering as Gladys's hair was. They were very similar, but Chloe's hair was cropped short to a centimeter above her chi, and her hair was more green than blonde or brown. Her eyes were incredibly light blue, as opposed to silver. Instead of diving, she slipped off the side of the red contraption, unafraid of any mantizacs. They could manage any who were small enough to fit under the bridge. Of rather, Chloe could take care of it.

Wading for a few minutes, Chloe finally raised her eyebrows at Gladys, who nodded. Only one word was needed for the race to begin, as races were taken rather seriously.

"Go." Chloe did the honors, as she was generally faster than Gladys, not to mention older, so Gladys deserved a head start. Still, unlike water-races among humans, Gladys had not moved. Instead, she was breathing, loading her lungs with the oxygen it would take to go the two or three hundred yards, storing it, them breathing more.

But Chloe was different.

What she lacked in oxygen take-in, she made up in speed. Taking a single, deep breath, she'd slid below the water and opened her eyes, blinking a bit to get used to the obscuring medium. Shooting forward, using her legs as propellers and hands as a double-rudder, she sought out the source of the ripples on the water, going against them. The ripples _were_ unusual, though. They became more and more like waves as she advanced. It would take no small stone to create that type of power.

All was still.

Chloe had reached the stone, and her breath had been just about to give up. Surfacing, she glanced back at the boat, perfectly aware that she wouldn't be able to see Gladys. Both swam below the surface, a talent that had preserved their lives on many occasions.

The Abarat was a different place, now. Day and Night continued to war, and Night was gaining, albeit slowly. Ever since Candy had failed in her mission, the perfect balance had been tipped, and it was tipping more. Meanwhile, as the two powers fought in the ultimate, epic struggle for omnipotence, Commexo City was growing. The Kid was everywhere, and people constantly and consistently bought Commexan wares. Rojo Pixler had somehow extended his life, and though he was old, he lived, and continued to root out and destroy magic, in preference of science.

Now, it wasn't just Pyon that was occupied. Pixler and his Kid had taken over another island – Soma Plume, but renamed it Requo Nexas, and people slurred it for the short version.

Anymore, herbal or magical healings were rare. Panacea was the only medicine on the market, and different versions of said antibiotic. It was as Candy's Samuel Klepp had said – it worked, which was the problem.

Actually, all of Candy's travels and words had been inscribed and published in the Book of Light (version 77.392), and Klepp's Almanack. Copies of both documents were rare, and thus it was odd that Chloe and Gladys possessed a copy of that specific volume of Klepp's Almanack, when they had so little else. Both were historical novels, antiques, to be sure – a couple hundred years old at the least – but the "memory" of Candy Quackenbush had faded out of the minds of many, and those who did know of her didn't care. Only once in a blue moon would you stumble upon someone who really knew of and believed in the world that was that time, in Candy. Every once in a while, looking through an abandoned attic in an abandoned house, you might find the name 'Candy' slipped into some record, but other than this, Candy Quackenbush had never existed.

Gladys surfaced, and didn't even breathe before she accosted Chloe. "Cheater. You're faster, but I can last longer. Cheater."

"Gladys, I suggest you stop this witless banter. Calling me a cheater – for no apparent reason, I might add – is not an intelligent maneuvre." Chloe grinned, then remembered the stone, which continued to bounce in place, the waves coming off of it strong enough to knock a human off his or her feet, and still strong enough to strain Chloe and Gladys's reserves. Or rather, it would have been if they hadn't been in the "eye" of this whole water-formation.

"Gladdy, why do you think…" she gestured at the stone, subconsciously aware that Gladys couldn't know any more than she.

"Chlo, I've got no clue," she smiled, and glanced at Chloe.

**This is Houston, speaking... or rather, it is the author. So, please, let me know I did a poor job. Click the little purple button that says "Go!" and start typing. It can't hurt you, and it only benefits me. That is a serious statement. And thank you to my readership, the second most educated ship to a scholarship. Ha ha. Now throw tomatoes at me. Tell me to quit with the bad puns, and do it in the form of a review.**

**Ps... what is the least heavy place to live? Keep guessing,...**

**A lighthouse. Now isn't that just the funniest thing you've ever heard?**


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